


destiny is a funny thing

by gonnakostya



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Drunk Katara (Avatar), Drunk Zuko (Avatar), F/M, Friends to Lovers, Past Aang/Katara (Avatar), Slow Burn Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-20 20:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnakostya/pseuds/gonnakostya
Summary: Katara isn't sure who she is anymore. In her search to rediscover herself, she takes Zuko up on his offer to escort her home to the Southern Water Tribe.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! These two dorks have been my OTP for over a decade now (gross). After so many years of lurking, this is my first ever fic (eek!). Is this something people would be interested in reading? Any and all feedback would be so welcome ^^

Katara had only been to the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se once before. Then, the streets had been dirty and crowded, each corner filled with refugee families left destitute by the war, hanging on by a thread. The desperation and hunger had clung to the air. Now, the streets were equally busy, but the energy could not be more different. The streets were clean and vibrant, and shops painted in bright colors dotted the sidewalk. What had once been ramshackle sheds of grey and brown were now respectable shops painted in emeralds and blues, cadmium yellows and deep crimsons. There had once been a silent mourning in air, but now families smiled as the walked by, hand in hand. Now, food vendors occupied corners, and the smell of the cuisine from innumerable nations and tribes tickled her nose. Her stomach gave a low rumble.

Eventually, through the throngs of people, she spied the small shop on the corner of one of the side-streets. It was a humble building, with battered wooden frames bordering wide bamboo screens, and a simple shop tile painted with a white lotus. It was a far cry from the now-luxurious Jasmine Dragon, which practically dripped with gold and rich, lush silks imported from across the Sea. What had made him buy this place? Regardless, she had missed Iroh. It had been over a year since she had seen the general, and she desperately longed for the comforting weight of peace that settled around her when she listened to his seemingly endless words of wisdom. With each passing day she had grown more confident in her decision to forge her own path, but a not-so-small part of her still feared facing the world on her own. He would know exactly what to say to set her mind at ease and give her the boost she needed. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The shop was simple but clean, with about half a dozen low wooden tables taking up the majority of the small room. Pale green pillows dotted the floor along each table, the color matching the shades that gave each table some privacy. 

A tall waiter with dark hair had his back to her, serving the table nearest the door. She couldn't help but notice as the muscles of his back flexed against the pale green of his tunic.

"And here is the Sencha you ordered. Can I get anything else for you?"

Her heart leapt to her throat. That voice- she hadn't heard it in nearly a year, but it sounded just like...no, she could easily be mistaken. [But deep in her chest she knew it was him, knew it was the voice that haunted the nightmares that still plagued her, nightmares of electricity and sacrifice and pain.] But what on earth would he be doing in Ba Sing Se, let alone the Lower Ring, let alone _serving tea _?__

Just then, the waiter abruptly turned on his heel, his arms carrying an empty serving tray. And suddenly she was face to face with the Fire Lord, his face hilariously stricken with shock that mirrored her own. His eyebrow shot into his hair, which was cropped a bit shorter since the last time she had seen him. He had somehow grown taller, and his frame loomed over her in a way that may her breath catch.

His mouth had begun to work, although it took a few moments before his lips could find her name.

"Katara!"

"Zuko." 

A sincere smile crested his face, and all she could think was how wonderful it is to see such a genuine smile light up his features. During the war, it had been such a rare occurrence- then, the smiles he gave were one sided, fragile things that never reached his eyes. Now he was beaming, bright and radiant, smiling at her because she was his friend. It had taken her so long to admit to herself that he was indeed her friend. Even after their "field trip," she had caught her self wincing at his niceties, bristling at his attempts to get to know her. She could never exactly pinpoint why. She didn't have a problem opening up to others, in fact she relished those small, sincere moments when she could share the contents of her heart. But with Zuko, it had always felt different. His eyes always seemed to see too much, his questions always seemed to probe too deep. Always too personal, too...raw. But he was her friend, she had realized. She realized it the day he asked her to help him defeat Azula. Realized it when he looked at her with those blazing eyes, eyes brimming with trust, with confidence. Not in himself, but in her. Any lingering doubts she may have had were disintegrated by the lightning that had seized his heart a few hours later.

He made a move to step toward her, before suddenly realizing the serving tray he still held in his hands. She couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled from her lips as he quickly set it on an empty table. Now he stood before her again, this time empty handed, but still couldn't quite figure out what to do.

He thought to take a step, his arms lifting hesitantly at his side, "Uh- hi...Um."

Laughing again, she quickly threw her arms around his neck. Grateful, he wrapped his arms around her and laughed softly, the sound muffled in her hair. She inhaled deeply, breathing in cedar smoke and salt and jasmine. When he pulled away, his eyes still shone.

"What are you doing here?"

She smirked, "I could ask you the same question."

He smiled again, and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. It was such a classic Zuko-ism, and she hadn't realized how much she had missed him.

"I was in Ba Sing Se on some diplomatic business, and Uncle said one of his servers had called in sick. I'm just lending him a hand. What about you?" He looked over her shoulder questioningly, "Where's Aang?"

Of course he would ask her that, it was only natural. She and Aang had been inseparable for nearly five years. 

She looked away, not trusting herself, "It's uh...just me."

She saw his eyes lilt in confusion, but he didn't press her. For all of his social awkwardness, he had always known when to give her space. 

"Oh, well, come, Uncle will be very pleased to see you." He jerked his head towards the back and extended his arm.

They walked towards the back of the shop, Zuko stopping to collect empty kettles as they went.

"So do these people know they're being served by the Fire Lord?" 

He gave her a sharp look, and hissed a small 'sh' through his teeth. She giggled. They found the general seated in a plush chair beside the stove, snoring heavily. He too was dressed in an emerald Earth Kingdom tunic, the clasps straining against his broad stomach as he took great heaving breaths. Zuko sighed in annoyance, but the small smile ghosting his lips betrayed him. 

He laid a gentle hand on the old man's shoulder and shook him lightly, "Uncle."

With one especially raucous snore the General stuttered awake, his bleary eyes blinking in confusion.

"Zuko, what is - Master Katara!" He gave her a broad, warm smile and stood, groaning with the effort before he clasped her hands in his own. "What a wonderful surprise! What on earth are you doing here?" 

The questioned wedged like a stone in her stomach, but she couldn't find it in her to resent him for it, either. Not when his kind, ancient eyes were looking at her with such paternal affection, not when the gravel of his voice vibrated through her chest and instantly set her mind at ease. 

She swallowed thickly, "I was just passing through. I asked for you at the Jasmine Dragon, but they said I might find you here. How long have you owned this place?"

Zuko and Iroh shared a private glance, "Oh, for many years now. Is the Avata-"

"Uncle," Zuko cut in sharply, and slid his Uncle a warning look, for which she was incredibly thankful. "Would you mind if I took my break now?" His eyes slid to hers, kind but questioning, "Katara, would you like some lunch?" 

She gave him a small smile and nodded. Iroh glanced between the two of them, a small furrow between his brows, before he shrugged on his apron. "Very well, nephew, I dare say I have slept quite enough. Besides, I must spare our customers from your tea! Really, Zuko, you have quite lost your touch." 

Zuko rolled his eyes, and led her to a small table near the back of the shop.

"Is Oolong still your favorite?" He asked as she nestled on top of the small pillow. She nodded, and he disappeared again into the kitchen. The simple, stupid fact that he remembered her favorite tea made her smile. For a brief moment, she was struck by the fact that she was a young peasant girl from the Southern Water Tribe, in the middle of the largest city in the world, being served tea by the Fire Lord. The Fire Lord, who just so happened to be her friend. It was all so terribly, terribly absurd that she couldn't stop the smile that formed on her lips. Zuko returned a few moments later, and set a tray on the table. Besides the kettle, the tray was laden with food- two bowls of steaming soup, rice, and small pastries filled with some sort of fruit. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. She quickly snatched one of the pastries while he poured their tea.

"So," he said, steam billowing in the air between them, "Aang's not with you."

She gripped the small teacup in both hands, not caring that it nearly scorched her palms. What could she say? She was so tired of dancing around half truths, giving polite answers. So tired of the silence, the complacency. She had always had to be so careful with Aang- every word feather-soft, every reaction measured and filtered. But, it had never been like that with Zuko. From the beginning, he had been subjected to her unadulterated rage, her passion, her fear, and had born it all without blinking twice. She dared a glance at him then, and found him looking at her. His face was open, his eyes kind. He gave her courage. 

"Well," she said, annoyance clipping at the edge of her voice, "aren't you going to ask me why?"

Zuko blinked slowly. He knew better than to balk at her tone. "Why isn't he here?"

"Aang and I broke up." She said quickly, taking a sip from her cup, "Or rather, I broke up with him."

His eyes bulged for a quick moment before he schooled his features into a look of nonchalance. "Oh. I see. Are you...ok?"

Was she? "Yes." She said, meeting his eye. His brows creased, but he said nothing more. He sipped the tea from his steaming cup, his bending sending the smoke furling up into his nostrils. Several more beats passed in silence, his eyes still fixed on her. What was he doing, staring at her like that?

His eyes widened again, hot tea spilling from his cup onto his hand. He bit out a small curse, and looked at her apologetically, "Sorry. I didn't know if you would...you know, want to talk about it. What happened?"

It was only then that she realized she did want to talk about it, no needed to. All of this time, she hadn't really voiced it to anyone, not even herself. The explanation she had given Aang had been gentle and compassionate, but that's not what she felt now. Now, the weight of years' worth of words unspoken begin to press upon her lungs, and she could feel the anger bubbling up within her. But before a word could slip out, she felt the cold steel of resignation pin her into place, stealing the fire from her bones.

"Zuko," She said, far too slowly, "If you had to guess, why would you say Aang and I broke up?" 

His eyes widened for a moment, and then his face settled into a mask of careful trepidation. 

"Katara, I..."

"No, Zuko," She said, her voice tighter than she'd have imagined, "It's alright. Tell me."

He sighed deeply, the steam circling him, before he looked her in the eye. "I...I don't know. Maybe because he...didn't see you for who you are. Just...who you were to him."

The tea in her cup froze with a sickening crack.

Her tongue felt like sandpaper, clogging her throat. "All of this time. You knew?" Her voice was a bare whisper, crackling along the edges, "Why didn't you say anything?"

He closed his eyes quickly. "Because it wasn't my place. I'm sorry, Katara. What...what happened?"

She took a few calming breaths, and recalled the script she'd rehearsed at least a dozen times. "It was three months ago. We were in a small town in the Earth Kingdom. Word had gotten out that the Avatar was in town, so they asked him to preside over a trial. An ex-Fire nation soldier had murdered a woman during a robbery. Left behind two children- a young boy and his sister."

Her voice became thick, her nails biting into the wood of the table, "All I could see was...myself. Sokka and I, all those years ago. And I was so angry. I still am. I said the man should be sentenced to death for what he'd done." She let out a shaky breath, a laugh ghosting around the edges. "Aang was so disappointed in me. Lectured me for an hour about forgiveness and mercy. Said I didn't seem like myself. But the thing is...I was being myself. I just hadn't been myself around him for a long time. I'd been who he needed me to be." 

Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears, but she fought them off. "So we fought. And eventually I said that we needed to take a break. But he wouldn't accept that. 'We are destined to be together,' he said. 'After all we've been through, we deserve to be together. We've earned it.' But I heard what he really meant." She let out a humorless laugh. "That _he _deserved to be with me. That_ he'd_ earned me. Like I was some kind of trophy." Bitterness laced the edge of her voice, dripping with indignation.

"I won't be defined by him." she said with a sense of finality, daring to look at Zuko. But his gaze was too scalding, too sincere. She glanced away quickly, licking her lips. "What about my destiny?" She said it so quietly she wasn't sure if he'd heard her. "So I ended it. I've been travelling on my own for the past few months, but I still feel so...lost. I have to find myself again."

It was a relief to hear it all completely spoken. Her head felt clearer, her limbs lighter. But she had never spoken of her feelings about Aang to anyone, let alone Zuko. She and Zuko had always avoided talking about matters of the heart. She chanced another look at him. He was still staring at her intently, his lips pressed firmly together in a tight line. He rubbed his forehead with his hand, and let out a long sigh.

"Spirits, Katara. I...I didn't know. How long have you felt like this?" 

"I'm not sure," She said, looking away. She couldn't bare to look at him anymore. His expression was so pained, as if he'd been physically hurt. "I think for a long time now. I just didn't want to admit it to myself."

He nodded solemnly, and for the briefest of moments, allowed his hand to rest on hers. He quickly pulled away, as if he hadn't realized what he was doing. He swallowed hard and poured himself more tea, although his cup was nearly full. 

"You'll find your way, Katara." He said so quietly it was nearly a whisper, his voice catching at the edges. "What will you do now?"

She knew he had meant the question literally. As in where would she go now that she had the power to chose. But the question rang deeply within her, echoing in her ears until she wanted to scream. What would she do? For nearly five years, all she had known was service. Supporting others, caring for others. Focusing on their goals, never hers. What did she even want for herself? Maybe it was okay not to know, at least for now. One thing she did know was that she needed to be with people who knew her. Who respected her for who she was herself, not for what she was to someone else. Maybe if she went somewhere where everything makes sense, she could begin to make sense of herself.

" I think I need to go home to the South Pole, at least for a little while. It's been too long since I've seen my family, and I'd like to see how the reconstruction is going. That's why I came to Ba Sing Se. I'm hoping to find a ship heading south."

Zuko gave her a particularly crooked smile, and laughed quietly to himself. "Well, you are in luck. I'm leaving for the Fire Nation tomorrow, but we were planning to stop and check on the progress at the Southern Air Temple. We could easily make a stop at the Southern Water Tribe."

She felt her heart still. This was perfect, wasn't it? Or was she just relying on someone else, yet again? Was he only offering because he felt bad for her? Pity had always been something she could never abide. Besides, Zuko was her friend, surely, but did she want to spend a week alone with him on a ship? It made her nervous, but she wasn't sure why. 

"Zuko, that's very kind. But I can't possibly ask you to go out of your way like that. You're the Fire Lord, you have much better things to do." 

"Please!" He said, a bit too quickly, "It's no problem at all. With the new engines the Mechanist designed, it would only add three days, at most." He seemed to realize exactly how eager he seemed, and his good ear flushed a light red, "I mean, I've been meaning to make my official visit, anyways. Maybe this will help put me on Chief Hakoda's good side." 

She couldn't help but smile, and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I've heard he's truly a fearsome thing to behold."

"I've mostly heard that about his daughter."

She felt heat flood her cheeks, and prayed fervently to Tui and La that he didn't notice. Zuko, however, was not so lucky. She saw the blush rise up his long, pale neck and pool along his high cheek bones, and he quickly busied himself by refilling his teacup yet again. With a deep breath he seemed to calm himself, and offered her a small smile.

"Please, Katara. You've been helping all of us for so long. Let me do this to help you. It's the least I could do." 

His face looked younger than it had in years- his eyes wide and hopeful, his smile small but reassuring. Such a far cry from the primal, angry prince that had ransacked her village so many years ago. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time for someone to be inconvenienced for her sake, for a change. Maybe it wasn't wrong of her to ask a friend for a favor, one she would have granted without a second thought. Plus, it had been so easy to tell Zuko everything that had happened with Aang. She knew she would be able to talk to him honestly, and he in turn would not hold back the truth from her. It also seems like he had memorized a few of Iroh's aphorisms over the years, which would surely come in handy.

"Ok, Zuko. If you really don't mind. Thank you."

**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks. Enjoy our lovable idiots being lovable idiots. Rating will probs change soon ;)  
> Next chapter: Drunk shenanigans, because we love tropes.
> 
> Any and all feedback is so welcome! 
> 
> *tw: semi-graphic description of a panic attack following the last *** . Skip ahead to "It will pass" if you'd like!

She made her way to the docks the next day, the sea-salt air brisk against her face. The harbor was filled with ships of ever color, shape and size, and all around she was surrounded by the sound of boots stomping upon the deck and the gentle, constant slap of water upon wood. She spotted the Imperial ship almost immediately- it was hard not to. It dwarfed every other vessel several times over, and the gleam of the sunlight upon the metal was nearly blinding. More than that, a dozen guards surrounded the gangplank, daring any passerby to attempt to board the Fire Lord's ship. The sight of those colors, of that sharp, metallic, blood-red armor still made her heart beat falter for a brief moment, even after all of this time. It had gotten better over the years, but the gut-instinct remained. She wondered if she would ever be free of it.

Shaking the thought from her head, she approached the ship, forcing her back straight and her chin up. The guard at the center of the group was familiar to her, she realized. The captain had been assigned to Zuko's retinue at his coronation and had remained ever since. He seemed to recognize her well, and gave her a small smile.

"Master Katara," He said, bowing slightly, "His Majesty is expecting you."

The guards parted, and the captain led her up the gangplank and into the mouth of the ship. She'd been inside this particular vessel once or twice over the years, in those rare instances when Zuko's schedule intersected with their endless marauding. The captain led her to an entryway, and motioned for the guard stationed there to open the door. As she stepped into the room, she realized it must be Zuko's office.

It was nearly as lush as the actual palace itself. The walls were covered with red and gold silk that gleamed in the light of the sconces, and a plush red carpet swallowed the sounds of their footsteps. After the war, the ship had been stripped of much of its golden finery as Zuko attempted to rectify the inordinate amount of money spent on the Crown, but it still simply oozed luxury. The Fire Lord himself was no different. He was nearly unrecognizable from the shaggy-haired man she'd met at the tea shop hours before. His hair was swept into a topknot, held in place by his golden crown, and he was in his formal armor. It wasn't the full regalia he wore for official events, but it was no less brilliant- the leather was a deep, shining obsidian, and golden embroidered dragons danced in an eternal circle along the collar at his throat. It was moments like these that reminded her that he was pure royalty, born and bred. They all jokingly called him pompous and spoiled, but he always insisted he just appreciated things of quality. The thing is, she believed him. Because she knew Zuko had gone without in the past, had known the claw of hunger as it scraped the inside of his stomach. Knew he took as little for himself as he could, always putting his people before needless expenses. But years of diplomacy and gratitude had once again covered his walls in ornate tapestries, gilded his teacups, and embroidered his clothing. It was as if he was simply meant to be surrounded by fine, beautiful things. As if he was one of them.

Upon her entry, he looked up from the paper in his hands. He immediately gave her a broad smile and stood, before quickly schooling it into a look of sober respect.

"Master Katara," He placed his fist against his palm and gave her a small bow, "It is my honor to escort you to the South Pole." 

It took all of her will power to keep her face neutral as she returned the bow. "Fire Lord Zuko. I am very grateful for this _honor. _" Her lips wobbled ever so slightly.__

____

____

Zuko nodded to the captain, "We can set off now. Thank you, Ming " The captain saluted and left the office, shutting the door behind him. She immediately burst out laughing.

He groaned, and buried his head in his hands. "I forgot. Somehow I forgot you are the _actual worst. _"__

____

____

"Only because you were being so weird!" She cried, perching on the arm of the chair opposite his desk. She gave a mock little bow and put on her raspiest voice, "Master Katara."

He rolled his eyes and pouted. Visibly pouted. "Some of us believe in proper etiquette."

She felt a great tug beneath her, and heard the scraping of metal and rock. So this was it. She was going home. Alone. Well, not totally alone. She gave Zuko a sincere smile. "Really though. Thank you."

He only waved his hand dismissively. "I guess you'll want to, uh, see your room?" 

He stepped around from his desk and led her to the hallway. They weaved around several corners before coming to what must have been the royal suites. He opened the door to her right, and gestured vaguely. "So here's your room. My room's next door." He suddenly blushed furiously, as if he was trying to figure out why on Earth he'd told her that, "I've got to catch up on all of the work I've been avoiding for the past few days, but I'll meet you for dinner? The dining rooms just across the hall."

She tried to ignore the disappointment that tugged at her heart. Of course, he doesn't have time to just sit and talk. He had a country to run. Or maybe he just didn't want to. "Of course. Go! I'll be fine."

He eyed her for a moment, as if he didn't quite believe her. But before she could ask what he was thinking, he gave her a quick nod and disappeared around the corner.

Her room was no less luxurious, and she heaved a great sigh as she plopped onto the plush bed. She literally sank into the layers of feathers, the burgundy silk caressing her skin. She had been travelling by foot for weeks before she'd reached Ba Sing Se the day before, and all of the exertion finally began to settle into her bones. Throwing her bag to the side, she curled up against herself tightly. Surely no one would begrudge her a few moments of rest.

***

She slept fitfully, constantly lulling in and out of consciousness. She would sink into the deepest depths, and then be drawn violently upward. But she would never break the surface. And now she knelt down to the edge of the Spirit Oasis, the damp ground ice-cold against her silk-covered knees. Why was she wearing Fire Nation clothes in the North Pole? But then her eyes were drawn to the water, and she felt a sob rip from her throat. Two fish, one ivory, one ebony, lay motionless in the water. She reached out her bending to attempt to heal them, but the Spirits were already dead. The moon above her began to darken, and she watched as the water she bent fell from her hands. She tried to move it again, but all she could feel was the power leeching from her blood, one drop at a time. 

She sat awake, sweat dripping from her brow and down the small of her back. Just that dream again. It had recurred almost every night since she'd left Aang. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the images from behind her eyelids. She made her way to the washstand, and dabbed her face with the cool water. 

A knock sounded at her door, and she muttered a quick permission. Captain Ming stepped in carefully, again giving her a small bow. "Master Katara, His Majesty is waiting for you in the dining room."

***

He sat cross-legged on a pillow at the low, long table, a piece of parchment in his hand. He still wore his armor but had removed his crown, letting his hair brush against the top of his shoulders. 

"Do you ever stop working?" She asked as she took a seat across from him. 

He gave a guilty look and set the paper down by his side. "Not really."

Two servants entered carrying trays of food. Each tray contained much more food than one person could possibly eat- trays of dumplings, rice, vegetables, and some kind of curried chicken. She noted that her curried chicken was a fresh green and sprinkled with nuts, while Zuko's was a bright, angry red and dotted with chilis. One of the servants offered her a glass of sake, which she politely declined. Zuko, on the other hand, accepted it gladly.

They spoke casually while they ate, talking of nothing of particular importance. It was the slightly stilted and awkward type of conversation that inevitably occurs at first when time and distance have separated those who had once been terribly close. They simply needed time for the ice of their friendship to thaw out and revitalize, she told herself. She needed time to remember what it was like to speak without apologizing. She sensed that he needed time to remember what it was like to speak to a friend.

She told him of how she suspected, based on his letters, that Sokka's young son was a waterbender. This of course, was an endless source of joy for her and an endless source of frustration for her brother. He told her of his work in Ba Sing Se, and how he'd finally secured sovereignty for the Ex-Fire Nation colonies on the western coast of the Earth Kingdom. Even if the people of the Fire Nation were far from thrilled.

Once they finished their meal, servants came to take the trays. As they were busying themselves with the dishes, he asked them to bring in his stationary. Before she could ask him why, he handed her the paper that he'd stashed by his side. Throwing him a questioning look, she quickly skimmed what he'd scrawled in his fine, neat hand writing. Several lines had been written and then slashed through. It was a missive to her father, announcing his intention to make his official visit to the Southern Water Tribe in the coming week. 

"What about it?" She asked, somewhat puzzled.

He threw his hands in the air with only half-sincere exasperation, before quickly snatching the paper back from her. "I don't know! I just wanted to make sure it, you know, sounded alright."

She didn't mean to keep laughing at him, but how could she help it if he insisted on being this ridiculous? "It's fine, Zuko. You know my dad doesn't care about the formality of these types of things. But aren't you forgetting something?"

A look of horror crossed his face, and he immediately began scanning the letter for the obvious omission.

"Zuko." She said, waving her hand in front of her. When his expression remained confused, she threw up jazz-hands by her face. "Hello! The fact that I'm coming with you?"

He instantly looked relieved, and let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, no I didn't forget. I just thought you might want to write him yourself." He gestured to the stationary set the servant had placed in front of him. 

She'd been avoiding writing her dad and Sokka for months. She had started a dozen letters, but they all ended up crumpled and thrown into the fire. She could never quite find the right words to say. She wanted them to be proud of her, to say that she had made the right decision. But the thought of explaining herself, of describing the years of judgment and shame and complacency, made her stomach lurch. And if she were really honest with herself, she couldn't shake the fear that they would be disappointed in her for having chosen her own happiness over the Avatar's. But she could put off that conversation for now, she thought, blinking back the fear. She could save it for when she could speak to them face-to-face. They just needed to know that she was coming.

She stood and walked over to the other side of the table and took a seat beside Zuko, her knee gently pressing into his. She'd forgotten how absurdly warm he was, and she could feel the heat of his skin sinking into her through the layers of her clothing. Her throat suddenly became tight. Why had she come over to this side of the table, anyway? Couldn't she have used the stationary from where she had been sitting? She tried to ignore the sense of embarrassment that swelled up within her, and snatched supplies from the stationary set. He watched her for a moment before grabbing a blank sheet, and began to write the final version of the missive for her father. They wrote in companionable silence, the room filled by the sound of their arms shuffling and bristles bending. Sometimes his sleeve would brush hers, and she had to resist the sudden urge to snatch the fabric in her fingertips. What was wrong with her? 

As she finished the last sentence, she glanced at the porthole just in time to see the sun sink beneath the waves. She watched as the colors all shifted into shades of blue, and couldn't help the feeling of relief that washed over her as she watched the crescent moon take its place in the sky. She must have been staring for much longer than she thought, because when to looked to Zuko, he had fallen asleep with his head on his hand. His features were smooth and seraphic, his skin a perfect ivory in the pale of the moonlight. His hair fell over his face in great waves, so black it was nearly the color of the ink that sat between them.

She placed a gentle hand on his wrist, "Zuko."

His eyes shot open immediately, and he let out an excessively loud yawn.

"Go to bed Zuko." She said affectionately, standing up. She offered him her hand. He blinked at her hand for several moments, as if he couldn't understand what it meant. As if it meant something terribly important he couldn't seem to understand. But eventually he took it, and she pulled him to his feet. His balance was still lethargic, and he nearly toppled over her. For a moment he loomed far too tall, too close, too warm- is this what it had felt like for Mai before he would-

He let go of her hand, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Good night, Katara."

Her hand felt like ice. "Good night, Zuko." She gave him a quick bow and a knowing smile, and then nearly sprinted to her room.

***

The same dream again, over and over. But the last time, the Spirit Oasis was filled with blood. A great shadow loomed over her, but she was utterly powerless. The moon crumbled to ash.

She sat awake again, but this time gasping. The air wouldn't seem to fill her lungs, and she could feel her own heartbeat in every fiber of her being. Why couldn't she breathe? Sweat poured down her face, and she gripped her knees, trying to catch just a single breath. He heart beat much to quickly, and it felt like the room was spinning. Was she dying?

The door burst open. Zuko stood, panting, wearing only his sleep pants and a thin robe thrown across his shoulders. His eyes were wild.

"Katara-" He seemed to take in the state she was in, and quickly rushed to her side. He sat on the bed beside her, his hands lightly gripping her shoulders.

"I heard a sound and thought....what's wrong?" 

She tried to speak, but still couldn't catch her breath. She tried and tried again, but the only sound she could make was a suffocated cry of "I can't-". Hot tears began to stream down her face.

He cupped her face in both of his hands then, and gently stroked her cheeks with each of his thumbs. "It's okay, Katara, you're okay." He pulled her into his arms, and she nearly collapsed into him. She fisted his robe in her hands and buried her face into the crook of his bare shoulder, her tears slipping down his skin. He wrapped his arms around her back and pressed his forehead against the top of her head. She could feel his lips move as he spoke.

"It will pass. This used to happen to me...a lot. After I was exiled. After the war." His voice quieted into a whisper. "It still does."

She doesn't know how long he held her like that, whispering soft affirmations and rubbing small circles on her back with his fingertips. But soon raindrops began to dance along the metal of the ship. It quickly turned into an outright downpour, and the power of her element began to surge in her veins. Just a dream. Just a dream. She wasn't powerless. She wasn't helpless. 

She finally took a deep, filling breath, and lifted her eyes to meet his. He gave her a small smile, and wiped the last of her tears away with his thumb.

"Better?"

Her voice was thick with tears and gratitude, and she could only nod. 

He smoothed the top of her hair with his hand. "Good night, Katara." 

And then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks. As promised, drunken shenanigans!

She awoke the next morning in a daze. She felt as if the night before had hulled out her insides, leaving behind only a fragile shell. Yet at the base of it all there was a whisper of something more. A burning seed of hope that it would pass, that others had born it before and lived to tell the tale. That she wasn't alone. 

She washed the dried tears from her eyes and dressed, pulling on her thicker leggings and blue tunic. She peeked her head out the door, but the only person in the hallway was an older servant.

"Master Katara," The woman said, "His Majesty is currently occupied, but there is breakfast for you in the dining room."

Katara nodded, forcing herself to ignore the pang of disappointment that bit at her insides once again. She walked into the dining room, and found the table laden with pots of steaming tea and a variety of fruit. Yet, the thought of sitting down to eat alone suddenly seemed unbearable, and restlessness began to buzz in her limbs. She quickly snatched an apple, and made her way into the maze of hallways. She took a few wrong turns initially, but eventually she found her way to deck of the ship. The first thing to hit her as she climbed the stairs was the slap of the sea air. Now that they were thoroughly out at sea the temperature had significantly dropped, but she couldn't help but smile at the too-familiar bite of icy wind against her skin. She mounted the deck, and was again bewildered by the sheer size of the ship. The smooth, hammered metal stretched out like a field before her, the dozens of crewmen marching about like ants.

Captain Ming stood close by, talking with a group of subordinates. He quickly noticed her and made his way across the ship.

"Master Katara," He said, "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes!" She said, wincing at the shrillness of her voice, "Just wanted some fresh air."

He nodded, a knowing look in his eye. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a sharp cry.

She quickly looked up to see a large hawk break through the clouds, it's great wings swirling the smoke from the ship's engines. Only when the bird perched on the Captain's outstretched arm did she notice the small emblem of the Southern Water Tribe that hung around the bird's neck.

"Hawky!"

The captain gave her a series of slow, confused blinks.

"Sorry, " she said flushing, "That's my brother's messenger hawk, Hawky. Hawky... the hawk." Spirits, she sounded like a complete idiot! Well, it's not her fault Sokka wasn't exactly the leader of the creative naming department!

Captain Ming let out a small cough, which was certainly not an effort to cover up at laugh at her expense. "I see."

He checked Hawky's pack, and pulled out two scrolls tied with blue leather string. He rolled them over in his hands, checking the inscriptions.

"One is addressed to you," he said, handing it to her, "...and the other to His Majesty. Excuse me while I deliver this to him."

He turned on his heel to leave, and before she knew what she was doing she'd reached out a hand to stop him.

"No! I mean, let me. I can take it to him, I don't mind."

He gave her an appraising look, and pulled his mouth to the side, seemingly questioning if it was permissible to let this "Hawky" enthusiast deliver an important missive to the Fire Lord. She cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow, daring him to question her position. Very few truly held the title of _friend to the Fire Lord_ , and he damn well knew it.

"Very well, thank you Master Katara." He finally relented, and handed her the scroll.

Throwing him a smile of satisfaction, and feeling just a little bit more like herself, she made her way towards Zuko's office.

***

As she approached the door, she could have sworn she heard Zuko's frustrated voice, deep in conversation. The guard at the door gave her a nod.

"Sorry," she said, dropping her voice to a whisper, "Is the Fire Lord in a meeting?"

"No, ma'am, he is not." the guard said, his lips twitching. He stepped aside and gestured to the door, although he didn't dare open it. _You do it_ , he seemed to say.

She took a step closer. She could definitely hear Zuko's voice.

Shrugging, she slowly pushed open the door and immediately came face to face with Zuko, although that face was...upside down. He lay stretched out across the deep crimson settee, his head lolling backwards off of the curved arm. He held a stack of parchments above his face at arms length, his eyes quickly darting back and forth across the page as he muttered furiously to himself.

"Hi, Katara here."

With a stutter, he dropped the papers he'd been holding, scattering them across the room. One page landed squarely on his face, and he let his arms fall to the side in resignation.

"Hi, Katara." He growled.

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she quickly scooped up the papers, shuffling them all into a neat stack. He looked absolutely exhausted. His eyes were glazed and heavy, and pale lavender circles shadowed the pale skin of his cheeks.

"You look horrible," She said taking the chair beside the settee.

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

She swatted him with the papers, and then began to scan their contents for herself.

"What is all this, anyway?"

"I have no idea. And I've been reading it for three hours."

She didn't know the meaning of half of the words she came across. Some were familiar, things like tariffs and embargos, but then came the numbers. Pages and pages of figures and estimations.

"This is absolutely horrible."

"Maybe I'm not cut out for this."

He said it so quietly she almost hadn't heard him. She remembered how much he had doubted himself at the beginning. Remembered reading the smudged ink of his endless apologies and self condemnations. _I'm sorry, I think you were mistaken in trusting me,_ he'd written. _I'm nothing but a disappointment._

"Zuko," she said, just as quietly, "It's okay. Literally no one understands this stuff. But you are the most determined person I've ever met. So you'll figure it out, just like you always do. That's what makes you a great Fire Lord. You never give up." She looked to him finally, and found him staring at her intently, his brows creased over his amber eyes. His gaze was so penetrating, so searching, it was as if she could feel it pinning her against her chair. He looked as if he were terrified to believe her. The silence hung in the air between them like a question. _Are you sure?_ He seemed to ask. She gave him a small smile and nodded. But his eyes still held hers.

Eventually she broke through, and shook the feeling from her head as she tossed the papers onto his desk.

"Take a break. And sit up, that's not good for your head."

He rolled his eyes and sat up, and she extended the scroll toward him. He cocked his head to the side, his lips mouthing the message on the inscription.

"Already?" He asked, snatching the scroll from her and loosening the leather cord.

"Sokka sent both of the replies with Hawky."

"I think he loves that bird more than his own kid."

Katara finally opened up her own note as well, and her heart immediately softened as she spotted her brother's hurried hand writing.

_Katara,_

_Always happy to hear you are coming to visit. Although from the tone of your letter, this seems like more of an extended stay situation. Looking forward to hearing about all that's happened recently._

_Safe travels, and see you soon._

_P.S- Your nephew froze my tongue to the inside of my mouth. I don't know how, but this is your fault. Please hurry._

She let out a deep breath. She'd been very clear in her letter that it would just be her, no Aang. Of course Sokka had been able to put the pieces together. She carefully rolled up the message, and looked to Zuko. His eyes darted across the missive, his hand buried in his hair.

After a few moments he handed her the scroll.

"Nothing unusual," he said as she began to scan the letter, "They are honored that I'm finally coming. There will be feast the day we arrive, and then an 'honorary test of strength' the next day. What the hell does that mean?"

She couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled out of her. Ice-dodging. Her father was planning to take Zuko ice-dodging?! That could only go...well, poorly.

"I don't have the slightest idea."

" _Katara_ ,"

She gave him her most innocent shrug, but needless to say, the Fire Lord was hardly convinced.

They were soon interrupted by the ever-present Captain Ming, who brought a handful of missives from the Fire Nation. Zuko apologized, but promised he would meet her for dinner later. She borrowed some stationary and spent the majority of the afternoon writing letters to let people know her new location. She had put off telling Toph, but she had a feeling the young earth bender had long expected her current trajectory. In her letter, she begged her friend to visit her at the South Pole, but they all knew that was very, very unlikely. At least during the winter snows. After she finished her letters, she couldn't fight off the feeling of restlessness that still lingered in her veins. She needed to figure out so many things. What she would tell her family. What she would in the South Pole. What she would do for the _rest of her life_ -. Before she knew it she was back on the deck of the ship, the wind cutting through her clothing and sending her hair into a wild, unbridled storm. She dangled her feet over the side and closed her eyes, allowing the sea air and the pale, pure sunshine to wipe every thought from her head.

***

When she arrived at dinner, Zuko had once again beaten her there. This time he'd changed out of his armor, and wore a casual set of loose clothing, his hair undone. Dark circles still rimmed his eyes, but he seemed to be in better spirits. He smiled as she sat across from him.

As she took her seat, the servants immediately swarmed the room, setting down trays of food and tea. Again, they offered her sake. Again she declined. As they began eating, Zuko peppered her with questions about the elusive 'test of strength,' all of which she refused to answer. He grew more and more infuriated with each dodged question, and she couldn't help from outright laughing as smoke began to whistle from his nostrils. In her merriment, she swept her chopsticks to the side, and accidentally knocked her bowl of soup completely across the table.

"Shit!"

She immediately covered her mouth with her hands. A deep, bruising blush began to heat her skin. She hadn't cursed out loud in _years_.

"I am so sorry, I...I didn't mean to say that."

Zuko stared at her for several moments, his face expressionless. And then he began to absolutely _cackle._ She doesn't know if she'd ever heard him laugh that hard. His head fell into his hands, his laughter turning into pained yelps. It took him nearly a minute to compose himself, before he finally looked at her incredulously.

" I don't think I've ever heard you curse. But why are you apologizing? Spirits, you're an adult, Katara."

A blush again began to color her cheeks, but this time for a wholly different reason. This time it burned of shame. She couldn't seem to meet his eyes, and began to toy with her food.

"Katara?"

She finally looked to him then, hoping he wouldn't judge her as she was currently judging herself.

"Aang didn't like it, when I cursed. He thought it was...inappropriate. So I stopped."

He blinked slowly at her, as if he hadn't quite heard her.

"You mean Aang didn't let you curse?"

Her deepest instinct, her most basic sense of self reared up violently against this accusation. No one _let_ her do anything- she did as she pleased. But her sense of indignation quickly crumbled as she realized... he was right. She'd given that up for Aang, because it had been what he needed. He needed to feel like she understood him, supported his beliefs, she'd told herself. Didn't the fate of the world depend on his happiness? Sure, cursing or not cursing was relatively trivial- but they both knew it was symbolic. That her choice, her whole identity had been swallowed up by the Avatar's all-encompassing destiny.

His brows creased, and his expression grew unbearably sad. It wasn't quite pity, but it was far too close.

"What else didn't he let you do, Katara?"

Too many things. So many conversations in quiet, belittling tones. The wisdom of ancient, far-removed nomads expounded by a naive teenager as if it was gospel. Judgmental stares anytime her tongue strayed, anytime her hands wandered in a desperate attempt to feel _anything_. She looked away, and suddenly her eyes settled on the smooth black porcelain of the sake bottle. She remembered watching everyone drinking sea prune wine and dancing at Sokka and Suki's wedding while she sat solemnly on the sidelines with Aang and Gran Gran. An old, deep anger began to seethe into her heart.

"Can I have some of that?" She asked, nodding to the bottle.

He blinked in surprise. "The sake? Uh, yeah, of course. Are you...uh, sure?"

She narrowed her eyes sharply, and he immediately signaled for the servant to fetch another cup. He filled it silently, and slid it over to her.

A strange sense of adrenaline lit up her spine. It was a stupid, immature gesture. Driven by spite and hurt and nothing else.

She downed the cup in a single gulp.

Zuko, never one to be outdone, refilled his cup and did the same.

***

By the time the servants had cleared their trays, Katara knew she was...well, affected. Oh, but she was gloriously _warm_ . And _light_. She hadn't felt this light in years. Her head seemed to be rising, continuously, never ceasing, and her limbs seemed to occasionally float up by her sides by their own volition. Zuko, on the other hand, seemed to be mostly himself. A faint rose blush had settled over his cheeks and he smiled a bit more readily, but other than that seemed he seemed to be mostly unaffected.

Letting out an overly exaggerated huff, she quickly stood to go around to his side of the table. Far too quickly, it seems- she nearly crashed into the table, but managed to right herself at the last moment. Zuko let out a small giggle. She made it around and plopped down beside him. With unsteady hands, she refilled his cup, sake sloshing a bit onto the table, and slid it in front of him.

"Drink. You're far too sober."

"I've had just as much as you!" He cried.

"Yeah, but you're bigger than me. Drink."

He raised an eyebrow, his lower lip jutting out ever so slightly. "Are you calling me fat?"

"Yes," she said, nudging his cup even closer, "Now drink."

With a shrug, he downed the cup.

***

"Okay, okay," She began, as she attempted to step onto the table. She nearly toppled over once or twice, and rose slowly with her arms extended outward for balance. Zuko stood nearby, arms also outstretched, lest she completely lose her footing. His eyes were wide in alarm, but he couldn't seem to stop laughing.

"I have an announcement!" She declared.

Putting on a face of reverence, Zuko swept into a low curtsey. Not a bow. _A curtsey._ He only wobbled a little.

"What is your announcement, oh Master Katara of the Northern-"

"Southern"

"- _Southern_ Water Tribe?"

She threw a pointed finger skywards. "I think we should play that one game you guys played after the last summit."

"Capture the Fire Sage?"

"No, no," she said, waving her hands in frustration, "The other one! The one where someone asks you a question and if you refuse to answer, you have to drink."

"Okay, okay," He said, ushering her off the table, "but come down. If you fall and crack your head open Sokka will...actually, he might be okay with it."

She gave him a rough shove, and to her surprise he fell backwards onto the pillow. She burst out laughing, and sank down to the ground beside him. He looked a little dazed, but mostly ok. He sat up with a groan, and shook his shaggy hair back and forth like a dog.

"Right. So," He began, far too nonchalantly for someone that had just fallen on his ass, "Do you actually like sea-prunes?"

She gave him a bizarre look. This was the question he was dying to ask? "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

His chest shook with laughter, "Because they are fucking disgusting." Suddenly a look of abject horror crossed his features. "Don't tell your father I said that. "

"You mean after you went on and on about how amazing the sea-prune wine was at Sokka's wedding?"

"I was being _polite_ ," he said, rolling his eyes, "Besides, it got the job done. Okay, your turn."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "What is the most embarrassing thing you've ever done as Fire Lord?"

He was silent for a moment, and she prepared herself to tease him for the rest of his days, but he simply narrowed his eyes and took a long dreg from his cup.

"Oh come on! It's literally the first question!"

"So!"

She firmly crossed her arms and gave him her most intimidating glare. He met her gaze, and began to squirm ever so slightly. She let a low growl rumble in her throat.

"Fine!" He said, downing the rest of his cup in penance, "I..." He lowered his voice to whisper. "I fell into the turtle-duck pond."

She fell over laughing, crashing into his side. He grabbed her shoulders to set her aright, but she could hardly see him for the tears in her eyes.

"Oh, _Zuko_ ," She cried.

Zuko, never one to tolerate embarrassment, simply pouted in defeat.

"My turn," He said loudly, "Did you or did you not have a secret thing with Haru?"

This of course, only made her laugh louder. She thought this a fairly straight-forward dismissal, but Zuko did not seem to interpret it that way.

"Well did you?!"

She forced herself to look oh-so serious, and quietly took a drink from her cup. She gave him a wink. "I'll never tell."

He gave her a cutting glare, and took a sip from his cup. The actual rules of the game were inconsequential at this point.

"Fine, he said, "Your turn."

"Alright," she said, pulling her knees to her chest, "When are you going to pick a Fire Lady?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "What, have you been talking to by council?" He sighed again, and suddenly became very interested in a crumb on the table. "I don't know. One day."

"Alright." She said softly, giving him room to change the topic to something more pleasant.

But something serious lingered on his face, and he began to nervously toy with the hem of his tunic.

"What else did Aang not let you do?"

She'd expected him to change the subject to something lighter, to skirt around these personal issues as they always had in the past. But nope, here they were, in the thick of it. She mulled over possible answers in her head, searching for something palatable. Of course, she immediately spoke without meaning to, and said, perhaps, the worst of all of the possible options.

"Well, he didn't want to... ya know." Damn sake. She could have said _literally_ anything else. About how we didn't like it when she ate beef, or how he preferred that she didn't wear make up. But nope, she'd said none of those things. Just jumped right into the fact that Aang didn't want to have sex with her.

Fortunately, she hadn't _actually_ said anything specific. Unfortunately, Zuko seemed to immediately know what she meant anyways.

His eyes grew wide, and he began to choke on nothing. He took a small drink, seemingly to settle himself. They had certainly, positively, never talked about anything related to this topic. Ever.

"Oh." He said, his voice small, "Like...at all?" He seemed to be testing the waters, unsure of how much he was allowed to ask before he was slapped.

She flopped backwards onto the pillow, and covered her face with her arms. She wished she could sink into the ocean beneath them. 

"Some, I guess? If you are going to ask me anything more specific, please kill me first."

Only then did it occur to her that she could have taken a drink instead of answer. It wasn't that big of a deal, she knew. Plenty of people chose to wait, and that is totally fine. But there was something about the way Aang had simply refused to give her a straightforward answer as to _why_ that always bothered her. There was nothing about sex within the nomadic doctrine, but he had simply always said that the time wasn't right. What that time was, she didn't know. And she had been too terrified of the answer to ask. Sure they had shared...heated exchanges, but she was always the one who initiated it. Who begged for _something_ more than furtive kisses. It all just made her feel...less than.

Sensing her frustration, Zuko laid down on the pillows beside her. Set them on equal ground.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Katara." He said softly, propping an arm beneath his head. But she couldn't look at him yet.

"I know," She said, and she did. But the insecurities still gnawed at her, threatened to consume her. "It's fine. He just didn't want to, " She sighed, "With me, at least."

And then she felt his fingers encircle one of her wrists and pull her arm from her face. Then the other.

He gave her a sharp look, but his eyes were brimming with affection. " _Katara_ ," He said, "It's not you."

"How do you know?" She asked, and she hated how small her voice sounded.

And then he had the nerve to _laugh_ at her.

She shoved him with both hands, sending him rocking back and forth. He only laughed harder.

"What the hell?!" She cried.

He eventually set himself to rights, and threw out his arms incredulously, "Oh come on, Katara, you know!"

"I positively do _not_!"

His hands waved in the air, and he seemed to struggle to find the words he was looking for. "You are...ya know!" He then made a loose hourglass shape with the wave of his hands.

Her brows shot into her hairline, and she felt herself flush, "I am _what_ now ?"

To her amusement and personal retribution, Zuko had gone completely scarlet. He sputtered again, but refused to be cowed, "You're hot, okay! Spirits, Katara."

He crossed his arms, as if he were angry at her for making him say it out loud.

A surge of pride welled up within her. Did he really think that? Sure she'd caught him staring once or twice, but she had never really thought much about it. But he was attracted to her. He'd admitted it. _To her face_. She giggled like an absolute child, unable to stop herself.

He sighed dramatically, and nudged her shoulder with his own.

"Just go." He groaned.

Settling herself, she forced the last question from her mind. Filed it away into _Think About Later_. And by that, she knew she really meant _Never allow yourself to think about this. Ever_ .

"Let me think." She tilted her head back in thought, enjoying the way the world seemed to tilt back and forth, back and forth.

"Why did you and Mai actually break up?"

She could have slapped herself. What had possessed her to ask such a thing? He had asked her about Aang, and her mind had just made connection after connection, and...oh, no. They had been broken up for over two years now, but he had never given any of them a straight answer. Yet just as she was about to tell him to forget about it, or to tell him to just go ahead and drink, he spoke.

"I...I don't know. I mean, I do." He sighed and tilted his head back, his long, pale throat bobbing, "She just never really seemed to understand who I am...now. Growing up, and you know, before, we were happy. I was so angry, so confused, but we were happy together, at least. But after I...changed, she just didn't seem to understand. I think she was just waiting for me to go back to the way I was before." He gave her a wry smile, "She said being good made me boring."

She hadn't expected something so tragically...simple. She pressed her lips firmly together. How could Mai have said such a thing? After all he had gone through? Unlearning everything he's ever known about his Nation, rejecting his family in the name of peace and justice, accepting the fact that he alone could piece back together the fragments of himself that his Father had shattered. How dare she say she'd preferred him when his heart was broken and bleeding?

At the same time anger colored her vision, she looked to the man before her. To the man he was now. Warmth overwhelmed her, and all she could think was how _proud_ she was of him. How honored she was to be his friend. He was the strongest person she had ever met, she realized with a startling flash of clarity. Did he even know? Feeling the emboldening tingle of sake in her veins, she rolled to her side and laid her head on his shoulder.

"I like who you are now, if that matters."

He looked down at her, his face solemn. He tugged her right hand into his own, and held their clasped hands between them. An offering. A promise.  
"Of course it matters." He breathed.

Her chest became unbearably tight, her thoughts consumed by the feeling of his callouses brushing the center of her palm. She felt the sudden urge to slide her hands down his arm, to feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of the muscles along his bicep. As if reading her mind, he let their hands drop, but slid his hand until it cupped her elbow, holding her to him.

"I like who you are too, Katara." His voice quieted as he spoke, trailing off as his eyes drifted closed. "You're still you, even now."

She let her eyes close as well, and focused on the warmth of his chest against her skin and the smell of cedar smoke.

That night, she didn't dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* I know I did Aang and Mai dirty in this. I don't love it, but I've been feeling very bitter towards Bryke and took it out on Aang. Sorry!  
> **Obv its fine to not want to drink or have sex. Literally do whatever makes you feel comfortable. But the point was to emphasize the pressure that Katara felt to ensure Aang's happiness, even at her own expense.


End file.
